Just Go With It
by Firestripe49
Summary: Kira was pretty much a normal girl. Until she was five, when she appeared in middle of street. And it just escalates from there, from adoptive uncles to blood-thirsty hellhounds. What can she do but just go with it?
1. Road, Chuck and Parkinson's

Chapter One

The first time I ended up...there was when I was five. I was barely old enough to remember it.

I woke up on a street, trees surrounding me. I blinked and scratched my cheek (I was a very laidback kid) as gazed around. I saw a black car approaching me. That got me moving. I scuttled toward the edge of the road, afraid for my life. To my surprise, the car stopped. A tall man came out of the side door and walked toward me. I froze with fear. He was so _tall_. Or so it seemed to me at the time.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you," he said.

"STRANGER DANGER!" I screamed, throwing my arms over my head. He groaned, which I know now it's because he didn't have much experience with kids.

"Don't move, okay, little girl?" He walked over to the car, talking to an unseen person. "You're good with kids, right, Dean?"

"What made you think that?" The person said.

"I don't know, but I'm having trouble here."

The person groaned. "Fine," he said, opening the car door. He waved at me, smiling awkwardly. "Hi there, what're ya doing in middle of the road?"

I suddenly burst into tears.

"Great, you made her cry."

"I didn't see you do much better!"

"I ju-jus' enden up here," I wailed. "I was sittin' on my bed." One of them patted my shoulder awkwardly, but I couldn't see who though my tears.

Somehow, I ended up sitting in the backseat of the Impala, semi-answering questions I didn't understand until I remember one of them, Sam, asking, "Hey, do you think she's the four year old Kira?"

"Could be," Dean answered, shrugging.

"Hey, kid, what's your name?" He asked me.

"Kiwa," I said. It was when I had the toddler lisp. What? I didn't talk much.

"Kiwa?"

"She means Kira." I remember thinking, 'of course that's what I meant.' Then I popped back in my room.

I told my parents, but they just thought it was a game I was playing. I eventually convinced myself, with the help of my parents, that it was a little fantasy my five year old mind came up with.

Five years passed. I popped up in a crummy house cluttered with papers. Someone sighed. I turned and suddenly I was facing a man with a brown hair and a beard. He seemed tired. He pinched the stem of his nose, and I thought he looked annoyed. I was too panicked to be mad or react in any way.

"I knew this would happen," he said. He looked up at me. "You're Kira, right?"

"H-how did you know?"

"Uh... Wait here." He got up and started shuffling through the papers. I stood on my tippy toes, trying to look over his shoulders to see what he was looking for. "I'm a prophet, and I have this visions of the future. You appear in them sometimes," he said awkwardly, pulling out a sheet of paper. I blinked.

"She sat on the cold pavement. A girl of five years old. Dean averted the car in the hopes of not crashing into her.

"'Is that a little girl?' Dean asked, mystified.

"'I don't know, I'll check,' Sam answered, getting out of the car. He approached cautiously saying, 'it's okay, I won't hurt you.'"

"Wait! Tha-that's..." Words failed me.

"When you first came here, yeah. Or at least, the first time for you."

"Huh?"

"Oh, um, yeah," he said, scratching his head. "For Sam and Dean, it's not the first time they've met you. First time they met you, you were 12." A short pause. "Do you want something to drink, maybe?"

I ignored his offer. "Is this your first time meeting me?"

He crossed his arms. "Not... necessarily."

I rubbed my forehead, overwhelmed. "When?"

"Few years ago."

"How-"

"16 years old."

"Alrighty then. Why am I here?"

"I have no idea," he said shakily. He's a really bad liar. I looked at him pointedly.

"Do I ever find out?"

"Yeah."

"Then I can wait till then." He gave me a strange look. "What?"

"You've changed."

"How so?" He shook his head.

"Can't tell you anything of your future."

I snorted. "And just what we're you doing?" I muttered.

He looked down at me, confused. "Did you say something?"

"Nope! Of course not!" I chuckled nervously. Because I DO NOT giggle, now or ever.

I soon learned his name was Chuck, and I lived with him for one and half weeks (I slept on the couch). The most eventful things that happened was Chuck's visions and the lack of real food. Believe it or not, I cannot survive on pizza and ramen! I think I gained ten pounds,  
at least.

After that, I popped up in the black car with Sam and Dean.

"Damn it, Kira! You're as bad as Cass with these popping up things!" Dean, I think, cried.

"You're from that night! Haha! Suck it, Mom and Dad! It wasn't a child's fantasy! You are right, Chuck!" I laughed. Sam turned his head to face me while Dean looked at me through the rearview mirror like I was crazy. "Sorry, I've only met you once before when I was 5." Sam nodded, understanding me, while Dean continued to stare, then scoffed.

"Then should I be explaining who we are or anything?" Sam asked.

"No, I met up with Chuck, he explained everything."

"Who's Chuck?" Dean scoffed again.

"Ooh, you haven't met him yet. Oops."

"It's fine, you sometimes let things slip. So, what do you know?" Sam said.

"Um, I'll give basic info. Your names are Sam and Dean. You guys are hunters, fighting evil stuff. And you're brothers, too. Um... don't know what I can say without letting something slip." I also know up to the point where Sam and Dean are planning to gather the rings and put Lucifer in the box.

"It's good enough. We're checking something out right now, a ghost pushing a woman down the stairs. Anything we should know before we go?"

"Why are you even asking? She never tells us anything." Somehow, I get the feeling he doesn't like me.

"Sorry, but I don't know anything," I sniffed. It was true, I only knew the big events, and this wasn't big. There was a heavy silence after Sam reassured me. I stared out the window until we stopped at a Chinese restaurant.

"Come on," Dean snapped. Maybe he was in a bad mood?

"I'm not surprised the spirit choose to make contact with me," the woman said arrogantly (or at least it sounded to me) after we explained how Sam was writing a book and I had an interest in becoming a writer, so he was allowing me to help him research, to help me gain experience. He seemed to have used this excuse a lot. "I'm somewhat of a natural sensitive." I inwardly scoffed. I don't like this person. For some reason, she gets on my nerves.

"I can sense that about you, Candace, that whole natural sensitive thing." I'm not familiar with the adult thing, but is Sam FLIRTING with this- this moron?! No, he seems to be uncomfortable saying it, thank God.

"So, what is you're calling your book?" She asked.

"Well, uh, the worki-"

"Supernatural," I snickered, because, again, it's physically impossible for me to giggle. Just what Chuck calls his books.

"Y-yeah, exactly. We've been crossing the country, looking for stories like yours. Anyway, you've been telling me about your encounter."

"Yes, well, once I saw the apparition, that's when I started to run."

"And you said the ghost chased?"

"Not just chase me, it knew my name. It kept yelling, 'Mrs. Armstrong! Mrs. Armstrong!' And that's when I hit the stairs and fell." Wait, didn't she say 'push' before?

Apparently Sam caught on too. "You fell? The ghost didn't push you?" He questioned.

"Oh. I-I don't know. At least I think it did. Maybe." God dang, make up your mind, woman!

"It did feel like meant to hurt you? Like it was violent or...?"

"It was a ghost! I'm lucky to be alive!" Racist. Or... ghost-ist.

Whatever. I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. "Anyway, I was at the bottom of the stairs, and that's where it got weird. It helped me up."

"Say again?" What is so hard to believe? You're just as ghost-ist, Sam!

"Yeah. It helped me up. And it kept saying over and over 'please, don't tell my mom!'"

"Yeah, that's weird."

"I don't see what's so weird," I snorted. She smiled at me condescending.

"You wouldn't understand."

"Thank you for your time," Sam said hurriedly. "Come on, Kira." When we got a good distance away, he warned me, "Please don't go back and hit her." I was confused.

"Why would I hit someone?" He looked at me funny.

"I think Dean may have been a bad influence." He said after a pause.

"I know a damn bear track when I see one," a man yelled. "This thing didn't leave bear tracks, Hal, it's feet were huge!"

"Gus, it was-"

"It was Big Foot!"

"Gus," the other guy groaned.

"The Big Foot!" Gus continued.

"Gus, you're not talking sense."

"There's a Big Foot out there, damn it, and he's a sommabitch!" Whoo, potty mouth!

"Excuse us," Sam said. "FBI."

"What?" He asked, surprised.

"Yes, sir, we're here about, uh, for...that."

"About Big Foot?" He said, unbelieving. "You sure you're FBI?" he asked, glancing at me.

"She's another assignment. Protection." Dean smiled.

"Yeah! A murderer is trying to kill me!" I said gleefully. "They think he's my dad, because he's escaped from jail, but, really, he's trying to protect me and," I took a deep breath, "he takes the fall for _everything_ that the murderer does, even the murder of my mom." I  
grinned.

Sam cleared his throat. "Overactive imagination."

"I'm sure."

I pouted. I really liked that excuse. Totally believable too. I saw it on TV once. Don't know where, though...

"Sir, could you tell me exactly where it happened?" He seemed professional to me. But then again, I'm ten.

"You're thinkin'." Huh?

Turns out I heard wrong. Dean carried me (yeah, that's right, Dean) on his back through the NORTH THICKET (got it, brain?) as we followed the huge footmarks. They talked (something about 'Hunters know all', I think (what? that's what I heard)) while I searched my brain for  
things on Big Foot. All I could think is 'He has big feet'. Cue inward groan.

When we stopped near a store, I started paying attention. The door was hanging off of it's hinges. I gulped.

"Okay," Dean said cautiously. Then they made a really smart decision (not) to go inside.

They continued, just as cautious. Dean set me down. "Tell ya what, why don't you wait outside, and I'll take for some coconut cream pie after we're done, okay?" I gasped. My favorite desert! I think I love Dean.

"Promise?" I'm too used to my parents going back on their word. But even the promise of coconut cream pie is almost as sweet as the real thing because I can remember the taste even better if I expect it.

"Pinky Promise," he said, holding out his pinky. I took it with my own, smiling sincerely.

After 10 minutes of dreaming of coconut cream pie, drooling, and trying to remember what this job is, they finally came out, looking annoyed. Or at least, Dean did.

Sitting on the porch outside, Dean said, "I got nothing." I said I wanted to wait until I was hungry again, because I ate at the Chinese place. He said 'whatever' and that's why we're sitting here.

"It's got be a joke, right? Big ass mother in a gorilla suit?"

"Apparently, you guys forget I'm right here."

Sam apologized at the same time Dean said, "you'll get used to it, soon enough." Sam exhaled, annoyed.

"Anyway, maybe it _is_ a Big Foot. And he's some kind of alcho-alo-porno-addict?" Sam sighed and facepalmed.

"I give up," he muttered.

"Kind of like deep-woods Ducovny." I'm unsure what he's talking about. Maybe he has his own special language that only he and Sam can understand.

A girl younger than me (I can see these kinds of things) passed us and dropped a magazine as she was riding by. Dean, curious, reached over and grabbed it. Seeing what it was, Sam covered my eyes.

"A little young for 'Busty Asian Beauties', don'cha think?"

"Dean," Sam sort of coughed.

"What? You weren't worried about this kinda stuff before."

"Dean, she's 10. Before she was older."

"Yeah, I still don't understand that."

"Neither do I," I piped.

Sam sighed. "We'd better follow the girl."

"You're right." Dean said.

As we step closer to the house Dean asked, "What is this, the Harry and Hendersons deal?"

"I have no idea what is coming out of that mouth of your's half the time."

"Don't worry, I don't understand half the time either," Sam reassured.

Dean ignored us and knocked on the door.

"Hello?" She asked, pulling open the doors.

"Hello!" Even after dealing with me, Sam still sounded ackward. "Um, could we, uh, you know what, are your parents home?"

She shook her head. "No."

"No," both of them muttered, ill at ease. I smiled at their misfortune.

"Have you seen a really, really furry-" Dean started to say.

"Is he in trouble!?" The girl cried.

They glanced at each other, "No, no. Not at all, we just wanted to make sure that he was okay," Sam reassured her. I tried to hide a snicker. Because, again, do not giggle!

"Exactly." Have no idea what they're talkin' about, but it sure is funny!

"He's my teddy bear. I think he's sick," she whispered. Okay, I used play games like this when I was younger. So what, guys? Because I defiantly do NOT play with my own teddy bears like that. Pfft, that would be childish. And I am not a child.

"Hey, uh, Kira, why don't you take this one, huh?" Dean asked.

"No can do," I smiled. I really like seeing them make a fool of themselves too much to take over. He did a mixture of a grunt and a groan.

"I guess it's good that we're, um- teddy bear doctors," he said holding up his FBI badge.

"And I'm a nurse," I stated proudly.

"Really? Can you please take a look at him?" She said, hopeful. She was so adorable.

"Sure," they said at the same time again.

"Thanks," Dean muttered, for some unknown reason.

We climbed the stairs and I was afraid for my life. Did I mention that I was afraid of stairs? Not of heights, but of stairs. So I was a bit slow and everyone had to wait at the top.

"He's in my bedroom. He's pretty grumpy," she warned when I finally made it to the top of the deathtrap. She turned the door and knocked.

"Teddy? There's some nice doctors and a nurse here to see you." She slowly opened the door and I was freaked out. He was chugging a beer and rocking back and forth with the TV on.

"Close the friggin' door," he shouted and I jumped. Was he a man in a Teddy Bear Suit...? She closed the door and turned to us.

"See what I mean?" Sam and Dean turned to each other and traded freaked-out looks. "All I ever wanted was a Teddy which was big, real and talked." She explained. "But now he's sad all the time. Not 'ouch' sad, but 'ouch in the head' sad, says weird stuff and smells like a bus." I snickered quietly at the last thing she said.

"Um, little girl-"

"Audrey," she said exasperated, interrupting Dean.

"Audrey. How exactly did your Teddy become real?"

"I wished for it."

"You wished for it?" Sam asked, confused.

"At the wishing well." She confirmed. I looked at Dean and he had thinking face like he was pooping.

He opened Audrey's bedroom door again.

"Look at this," the Teddy said, sadly. "Can you believe this crap?"

"Not really," Dean replied.

"It is a terrible world. Why am I here?!" He cried.

"For tea parties!" Audrey said.

"Tea parties? Ah-ha," he laughed ironically. "Is that all there is?"

"Nope! There's dress-up, too!" I giggled (wait, no, ignore that! I DON'T GIGGLE!) and he sobbed, not liking my answer, I think. Dean turned and closed the door once more.  
"Audrey, give us a second, okay?"

She nodded, "okay."

"Okay." They walked a little ways off and I scrambled after them.

"Are we-? Should we-? Uh." Sam stammered. "Are we going to kill this teddy bear?" He whispered.

"How? Shoot it, burn it?" Dean whispered back.

"I don't know. Both?"

"How about we cut off it's head?" I whispered, following their lead.

"How do we know any of that's going to work? I don't want some giant, flaming, headless, pissed-off teddy on our hands."

"Yeah. Besides, I get the feeling that the bear isn't really, you know, the core problem here." They turned toward the girl and Sam asked, "Audrey, where are your parents?"

"My mom wished they were in Bali, so I think they're in Bali."

"Okay, well, uh, I'm really sorry to have to break this to you, but your bear is sick. Yeah he's got..."

"Parkinson's!" I cried.

"Parkinson's," Sam agreed, slowly.

"It's not uncommon for a bear his age. But, see, it's really contagious."

"Yeah, is there someone, maybe a grown-up that you can stay with while we treat him?"

"Mrs. Hurley lives down the street."

"Perfect." Dean said.

"Yeah, good. We'd like you to stay there for a few days, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed.

"Oh, and Audrey, where is this wishing well?"

On the way there, I popped out again. This time I ended back in my room, but it looked different.

And so my new life began.

* * *

(AN) My sister wanted me to name this 'the Popper'. Just... No. Even if that didn't sound like a children's book, this story is already too much like LinzRW's 'The Skipper'. (By the way, really good story.) I felt that 'Just Go With It' was too popular a title, but you should learn by now, I'm _ really_ lazy. Anyway, review. If I get fifteen reviews, I'll post a bonus chapter. (I've only ever gotten 4 reviews for one story. Sad.) If you don't, I'll still post the second chapter, I guess, but that comes when I feel like, haha. Review, follow, or favorite!


	2. Mom & Dad, Sleep, Gary

Chapter Two

"Mom? Dad?" I called. Why was my room different? Was I gone that long?

"Who are you!?" Dad shouted, holding up a baseball bat.

"Calm down, it's me, Kira!"

"Honey, it's just a kid. Kira, right? Where are your parents, young lady?" Mom asked kindly.

Didn't they recognize me? Tears started to form in my eyes. I shook my head. "Sorry, I thought this was my house," I sniffled. What else could I say? I felt so lost. I walked towards the door so I could go to Sam and Dean.

I turned out I could force myself to pop in. I was in a cruddy motel room, standing between two beds. I rubbed my eyes. "Sam? Dean?" Sam jumped back, dropping what he was holding. "Don't tell me you forgot me too!"

"Of course, we remember, why wouldn't we?" Dean frowned.

"My parents, they forgot."

"Yeah, like, totally," Sam scoffed. Is just me, or is he acting weird?

Oh, well, I didn't really get to know him. Tears ran down my face of  
their own accord.

"Sorry for crying," I sniffed. "I'm tired, and you promised me pie, Dean."

"When you wake up, I'm going get the pie, don't worry."

I collapsed on the nearest bed, not caring whose it was.

I woke up from a large jerk. "Wha's goin' on?"

"Sam wanted to drive," Dean growled, glaring at him. "Just go back to sleep."

"Okay," I mumbled.

And so I fell asleep once again.

I woke up with the sun blaring in my eyes. It took me some time to remember yesterday's events, and when I did it took me moment to prepare myself for the next one.

"Come on, Kira, we have go," Dean called.

"Kay," I said, getting up.

After a few minutes of walking, Sam asked, "So where are we going, anyway?"

"To work? The case?"

"Oh, right, yeah. The case. Of course."

"What one are you doing?" I asked.

"Me and Sam's old babysitter has a poltergeist. So far as we can tell, it's a witch named Maggie Briggs. And since Sam couldn't find where she was buried, we have to have an all tombstone roll so we can dig her up," Dean explained.

"Wait, Maggie Briggs? You mean, like the witch, Maggie Briggs?"

"Didn't he just say that?"

"Oh, yeah, well, she's in the basement."

"Come again? What-? What basement?"

"Isaiah Pickett's house." He said. "Okay, there's this legend that he hung her, but he didn't. The real truth is, is that she was carrying his illegitimate child and he killed her, and then he buried her in the basement."

"Okay, so where's Isaiah Pickett's house?" I asked.

"It was bought by our old babysitter," he told me. Then he turned to Sam, "So that explains the scratches on the girl's stomach. Wait, how do you know this?"

"Oh, I've done all _kinds_ of research on it. I mean, you know, last night." I getting weird vibes from Sam. Hmm...

"Yeah. Nice work, I guess," he said before getting into the car. There was a song that I didn't recognize playing after Dean turned the car on.

"Ah, man, turn it up!" Sam grinned.

"Seriously?" Apparently this was strange behavior.

"Hell, yeah." Dean frowned as he did as asked.

"Oh, and, Kira, your pie is in the back next to you. I expect a slice," Dean said, pointing his finger at me.

"Thanks, Dean," I smiled.

"Boo-yah. Master Chief is in the house, biz-atches." I frowned. Did I hear that correctly, or was I on a sugar-high from the pie?

"Are you alright?" Apparently, I did hear it.

"Yeah, fine." Dean rolled his eyes and turned away. I walked in front, leading the group. Because, apparently, 'I was the strongest one here.' They must be pretty weak.

"Well, I'll be damned," Dean said, crouching near some moss. "Willow moss."

"Oh, yeah. It's, uh, supposed to grow over witches' graves, right?"

Dean looked at him like he was crazy. "Yeah."

"I was, uh, just explaining for Kira. She might not know," he stammered.

"Thanks, Sam."

"Yeah."

Dean got out a duffel bag and unzipped it. He got out a shovel and started to dig.

"Hey, guys, I'm really sorry about this."

"Sorry about what?" Right then, Sam was knocked across the room. Dean jumped over wooden beam, and I started digging for him. Gotta hurry.

"Are you okay?" I heard behind me, and I was knocked back too. I hit my head and all was blank.

"Kira!" Someone screamed. Dad? "Kira, are you alright?"

"'Ine," I slurred. "Gi'e me a minu'e." I pushed the dizziness away and laid there a few minutes, regaining my bearings. "I'm hungry, guys, can we get something to eat?"

Dean chuckled. "Sure. Why not?"

I sat the table, wondering why we were in a bar. This wasn't I had in mind.

"Here you go, guys," the waitress said, setting down our drinks. Two beers for Sam and Dean, lemonade for me.

"You know, do me a favor, sweetheart. Would you bring me a cheeseburger with extra bacon? Fry an egg on top, would you?" Dean asked.

"Absolutely."

"Well, that sounds good. Ditto."

"And, you, sweetheart?" She asked kindly. I like her.

"Uh, same thing, only no cheese or onions," I smiled sweetly.

"Be right back," she nodded.

Dean turned to Sam. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sam?"

Sam faltered. "What do you mean?"

"Bacon cheeseburgers now?"

"I don't know, I eat them, don't I?" Did he? "Anyways, we are celebrating."

"Yeah, I guess." He said, lifting his glass as he followed Sam's lead.

"Another one bites the dust. Nice work today."

"You too."

"And I got my butt knocked out," I said, lifting my lemonade.

"Ah, you did good, too, Kira," Sam told me. "I had a really awesome day, you guys. Seriously." He knocked his glass back and I took a drink of mine. "Sweet."

"A really awesome day?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Yeah, Dean. He had a really awesome day. Wanna know why? I showed up," I grinned, judding my thumbs towards my chest.

"Yeah, sure, Kira, I'm sure that's why." He paused. "I mean, we go hunting ghosts all the time. And now you're in a good mood?"

"I can't be in a good mood?"

"Yeah, I guess, just... No, actually. It's not your style, Sam," he chuckled weakly.  
"Well, then, it's a new me. I mean, come on, why shouldn't I be happy? I've got a gun, I'm getting drunk, and I look like this." He did a finger swirl around his face. It was creepy.

"That's a little vain, don'cha think?"

"Ah, I don't know, I guess. I'm just happy that I do... I guess." He paused before saying, "Ah. I don't know. You ever feel like your whole future is being decided for you?"

"Uh, yeah, Sam, I feel like that a lot." Something must have happened... I guess I'll figure it out later.

"No matter how much you fight it, you can't stop the plan. The stupid, stupid plan. So I don't know. I guess it's good to do a little ass-kicking for change, that's all." There was a small pause and I wondered what was happening here. Plans? "Uh, you know what? I-I'm drunk. Ha, ha. Sorry, just forget it."

"No, no, it's all right. It's, uh... I'll drink to that." They did another shot and I'm glad I just had lemonade. Getting drunk seemed scary now.

"Wow, is it just me or are we actually drinking together?" Dean chuckled.

"We don't do it that often, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, we should. You're a good guy, Dean."

"Oh, you are drunk."

The waitress came up again. "Here you go." She said, setting the plates down.

"Thanks!"

"Yep," she giggled at me. Ha, she giggles when I don't!

"No, but I mean it. You really are a good guy, Dean. You, too, Kira."

But... I'm not a guy. He bit into the burger. "Mm! The bread alone. Mm!"... and after that, I'm too embarrassed to talk about.

"Kira, wake up," Dean shook me. I fell asleep after getting home, or should I say the hotel room. Now Dean was waking me up. Seemed like I was asleep for a second.

He told me to hide in the closet. I did as he said, confused. The door opened, then I heard a punching sound.

"You're not Sam. Who the hell are you?" Dean said, deadly quiet.

"Ow," was Sa- no, someone's brilliant reply.

Dean tied Sam's body up and now we were listening to voice mail in someone else's voice who claimed to be Sam.

"Start talking or I start waterboarding." Dean threatened. I decided to remain silent.

"Oh, my God. Please don't hurt me, please. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He whimpered. I snorted silently. It just seemed so weird for Sam to say that, different person or not. Wow, it just now hits me how weird this situation is.

"Okay. Hey, pull it together, champ."

"I don't wanna die. I don't wanna die."

"Where's Sam?"

"In my friend's basement. His parents are out of town."

"Parents?" The guy nodded. "How old are you?"

"I'm 17," he rasped.

"Seventeen? Huh." Just then both Dean and I were knocked back into a wall.

"Nora?"

"Not at the moment." I heard a girl say.

"Boy, you earned your dessert tonight, kiddo. Tell me, what is it you want? Anything."

"Anything?" I couldn't take it anymore. I tried to stay awake but I just was soo tired.

"Lay it on me..." I fell asleep.

A large screeching noise woke me.

"Wha's going on?" If this were an anime, they would have sweatdropped.

I wonder why...?

They dropped off Gary and I remained in the backseat, still tired. Was it because I got knocked into a wall twice?

I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. I laid down, but before my head reached the leather I passed out.

* * *

(AN) Hey, guys! A few quick things here. Now you may notice in this chapter that Kira passes out alot, but this is with reason!... Which will be explained later on. And a few other reasons. One, I'm lazy. Two, after writing so many cannon scenes, I have a personal vendetta against them. I absolutely despise them!... But they are a necessary evil, and I will write more, for those of you who like them. I'm sorry for the general lack of description in my story. The reasons for this is the same as why Kira passes out so much except it doesn't come into play later on in the story. It is simply the author's (me) mistake. Heh, heh, so I hope you can forgive that. Oh, yeah, and about the scene where Kira's parents forget her, I'm sorry! It's hard for me to write angst. And since the only experience I've had with parents forgetting me is their divorce and a lot of kids go through that, and it didn't impact me much... So I don't think my heart-wrenching scene should count as heart-wrenching. And Kira's reaction wasn't that plausible... Eh. Don't feel like changing it. Anyway, please review your thoughts! Criticism, as long as it's constructive, is greatly appreciated (though it'll take alot of people saying the same thing to go back and change something, but the future chapters can and will be altered(most likely)). And praise is even more appreciated. I'm a sucker like that. ;P (oh, my God, I think this is my longest AN ever despite my saying 'a few quick things'. Ugh.


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